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My Kind Of House
If I’m honest,I’d just as soon spend tonight with him. It’s been a long day; Sophie and I were on the road at 2 am. Despite my nap, I’m ready for a good night’s sleep.
And Sophie is comfortable with Dante. Already getting attached to him, which worries me, but for tonight, I’d rather not have to introduce her to any more new people.
I tell myself it has nothing to do with my feelings at all. I’m not attached to Dante. He’s just the devil Iknow.
The area he takes us to is more modest than Izzy’s, but still solid. An older neighborhood, the houses surrounded by mature trees, and with lots of families, judging from the basketball hoops in several driveways.
We go around a curve and turn onto another street. The lots and houses are a little bigger here, the cars and SUVs more recent models. Dante comes to a stop, and I look out the window at the house we’re parked in frontof.
“This is your house?” My voice comes out toohigh.
“Yeah.”
It’s perfect. The kind of house that feels like home to me, a sturdy wooden building with a wraparound porch and flowering bushes all along the front. A huge oak tree shades the frontyard.
The whole thing looks tidy and welcoming and … domestic. Not what I would have expected from the man besideme.
“How long have you livedhere?”
“Ten years. It was a fixer, but I’m pretty well done restoring it. Why?”
“Just wondering.” I open my door and slide down to the ground. Dante clicks the unlock button for all the doors, and I open the back door so I can get Sophieout.
She’s dozing, but she jerks awake as soon as I start to fiddle with the car seat. “Hi, darling.” I lift her into my arms. “Oof, you’re gettingbig.”
“I’ll bring your stuff in,” Dante says from beside me. He hands me a keyring, one key protruding. “Go on in and get settled. She okay withdogs?”
I’d started to turn away, but at that I stop short. “You have adog?”
“Yeah.” He peers at me. “You’re not scared of ‘em, areyou?”
“No. I love dogs.” One of my dreams, as soon as Sophie and I are safe, is to get her a puppy, so they can grow up together.
“BeeBee’s a lab mix. She’s good with kids, been around lots of ‘em.” He gestures toward the SUV. “What do you want first?”
“If you could bring her playpen in, that’d be great. I’ll let her explore a little, but I assume the house isn’t childproofed.”
He shakes his head. “Have the family over sometimes, but everyone keeps a close eye on thekids.”
I just nod and start up the sidewalk. There are too many emotions tangling inside of me right now. When I get the front door open and carry Sophie inside, there’s a deep woof before a sleek black shape shoots from the back of the house and wiggles up tous.
“Hi, BeeBee.” I let her sniff my hand, and she licks it hello. “Aren’t you a good girl?” There’s still enough light to see by, so I take my time and look around the interior.
Hardwood floors. Arched doorways. Built-in cabinetry. Not an open floor plan, but rooms that flow easily from one to the next, and lots of windows to let in the light. Through some of them, I see rosebushes growing outside.
Exactly my kind of house.
Kneeling down, I let Sophie and the dog get acquainted. BeeBee is very friendly, but also very gentle, and she and my girl make friends quickly. I set Sophie on her feet, and she immediately starts toddling through the house, inspecting everything, BeeBee at her side. I trail behind them, trying to talk some sense into myself.
I’m in a vulnerable state with everything that’s going on. I’m homeless, and isolated, and looking for stability. Just because Dante has my dream house — my dream life, from the outside looking in — doesn’t mean I can latch onto him as an answer to my problems.
It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair. And he probably doesn’t feel that way about me anyway.
Shoring up the armor around my heart, I follow Sophie and BeeBee into the kitchen. It runs along the rear of the house, but the door at one end leads not to the back yard, but to a closed-in porch. The cabinets are a pale cream yellow, some of them glass-fronted, showing off colorful stoneware.
There’s a big maplewood dining table at one end, and behind it it is a walk-in pantry. The wall toward the front of the house has a professional-grade six-burner stove, a double oven, and an industrial-sized refrigerator. There’s a butcher-block island with an extra sink, and the main sink, with a bay window above it, along a sidewall.
On the other side of the refrigerator is another doorway. Sophie and the dog go that way, as if BeeBee is giving her a tour. It leads to a hallway, with a storage closet on one side and a bedroom on the other, and then a bathroom next to the storage closet.
The hallway ends at the living room we first entered. There’s another bedroom at the front of the house. One or the other of them must have its own bathroom attached, since there’s so much space betweenthem.
Dante is on the other side of the living room, where he’s just finishing with getting Sophie’s playpen set up. Glancing at her and the dog, he assures himself that all is well and goes back out to the car. He doesn’t look my way atall.
